


Wonders

by nerdypipsqueak



Series: 2019 Advent Ficlet Challenge [11]
Category: A Dangerous Man: Lawrence After Arabia (1990), Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Established Relationship, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Ned deserves a happy and healthy sex life, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21752674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdypipsqueak/pseuds/nerdypipsqueak
Summary: Feisal pays Ned a visit and one thing leads to another...Set in the Modern Royalty AU Nobody Asked For. This one takes place some time after "Hungry" but before Ned is forced out of his job ("I'm with you, you know").Written for the 2019 Advent Ficlet Challenge. Prompt: wonder.
Relationships: Faisal I of Iraq/T. E. Lawrence
Series: 2019 Advent Ficlet Challenge [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559377
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13
Collections: 2019 Advent Ficlet Challenge





	Wonders

"One day someone will break in here and kidnap you." Feisal's breath ghosts over my ear. "You didn't even notice when I came in."

"I did give you my spare keys for a reason." I tell him without looking up from the article I'm editing. He cards his fingers through my hair, kissing my temple and cheek until finally I turn and allow him to kiss my lips.

"You're wearing the dressing gown I got you." He murmurs between kisses. "And not much else, I see."

Instantly my cheeks start burning, the blush, probably furiously red, creeping downwards to my neck. 

"Shall I get you a drink?" I disentangle myself from Feisal's arms, careful to keep the dressing gown closed.

"Whatever you're having." I can hear him smiling. I can't look at him, I just can't. Not when I know that he knows I'm completely naked under the robe. I wish I had a proper kitchen, not this ridiculous kitchenette, separated from the front room by a counter and nothing else. A proper, secluded kitchen where I could hide and collect myself.

As I fill our glasses with lemonade and ice I peek at Feisal. He's made himself comfortable on the sofa, bare feet resting on my coffee table (which annoys me beyond belief, I put my food there, for the love of God!), the three top buttons of his shirt open. He wouldn't look out of place on the cover of a fashion magazine. 

"I need your opinion on something, habibi." He says, eyes fixed on me, following my every move.

"Yes? I'm all ears."

"There's this show on Netflix. Some teenagers go to Petra, wake a vengeful ghost, end up on its hit list. There's been a lot of complaints about it."

"From whom?" I set the glasses on the coffee table and nudge his feet until he removes them.

"The board of education, a few of the more radical clerics, the usual lot." He pulls me down onto the sofa, holding me close to his warm body. "They want it banned. I don't think there's any reason to go that far but I would like a second opinion."

"You know that banning it won't help. It will still be out there."

"I know but I need to justify keeping it legal somehow."

"So you need a second pair of eyes. Go on then, I'll see if I can help."

The show is mediocre at best (although I can see why the supernatural themes might bother the board of education) and I soon find myself in need of a distraction. Something Feisal is more than happy to provide.

At first it's slow, innocent: a hand in my hair, nails gently scraping the back of my head, my legs flung leisurely across his lap, his fingers walking up my calf, coming to rest on my knee. Then there's a kiss. Then another one. And another, each longer, deeper than the last. And then I find myself on my back, Feisal's lips and tongue exploring the length of my neck. It's unlike anything I've ever experienced (not that I've experienced much, I've never gone this far with anybody), it's hot, intense, it's too much yet somehow not enough.

I wrap a leg around Feisal's waist, I want to feel him, all of him. I want more.

"Are you sure?" He whispers against the soft skin beneath my ear.

"Yes!" 

All I can do is hold on as he lifts me like I weigh nothing and carries me to the bedroom.

"Aren't you beautiful." His hands work feverishly on the sash of my dressing gown. "Let me see you, please, please let me see you."

"Can I see you as well?"

He makes a show of undressing, baring himself inch by inch, one button, one item of clothing at a time. I watch him entranced, speechless, frozen, with one sleeve of my robe still on. He looks like a Greek statue and moves like a panther, slender, graceful and oh so strong.

He could do anything to me, I realise as his lips find my neck and resume their gentle exploration. He could do anything to me and I... I would let him.

He descends, licking a trail down my neck, my chest, my stomach, then kissing his way back up, capturing my nipple between his lips, his tongue working it to full hardness, teeth scraping over it, his beard tickling my skin... A moan escapes me and I clamp a hand over my mouth, disconcerted, embarrassed.

"Let me hear you." Feisal purrs, his hand reaching between my legs, long fingers wrapping firmly around me, stroking in a slow, steady rhythm. "You sound so sweet. I wonder... What will happen if I kiss you here."

His mouth envelopes me, hot and wet and _yes_... It's so sinful, so perfect, the things he can do with his tongue and hands, things I never thought possible... Suddenly Feisal stops, pulls away and I can't help but moan in disappointment.

"I wonder, would you let me touch you inside?" His fingers move lower, touching me where no one has ever touched me before and I gasp, surprised.

"Yes." I say softly, my cheeks on fire once more. I close my eyes, too shy to look at him. All I can hear is the rustle of fabric, the clink of his belt buckle against the floorboards, the faint pop of what must be a tube cap. Then he returns, his lips soft on my clavicle, his fingers cold and moist inside me, stroking, stretching, rubbing. 

"Feisal!" I gasp, my spine tingling, my entire being trembling with anticipation.

"My sweet." He whispers, panting, excited.

"Please..."

"Please what?"

"I want you... All of you."

"Oh you wonderful thing." He grabs me by the hips, dragging me towards him, aligns himself and pushes into me. Inch by inch, painful, painstaking, delicious.

Feisal slips his hands into the crooks of my knees, lifting my legs and thrusts. He brushes against something inside me, something that sends shock-waves through my whole body, making me cry out with the sudden pleasure of it. "There, right there!"

His eyes darken and he thrusts into me again, harder than before, faster, more desperate and I rock against him, trying to keep up with him, to get more of that exquisite, blood-boiling, intoxicating pleasure. He grabs my thigh, hard enough to leave a bruise, his nails digging into the soft skin, scratching long and hard...

"Oh my God, Feisal, I'm..." I can't even finish my sentence, it's too much, the pleasure, the pain, the feeling of having him inside me, the only person in the world I could ever trust so completely and I'm falling, falling, falling apart...

"I'm so sorry, my sweet." Feisal murmurs into the skin of my thigh. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Huh?" I mutter. I feel like every single bone in my body has dissolved, turned into melted caramel. Sitting up is a Herculean feat.

"What are you talking about?" I finally manage, struggling to hold myself up on one arm. Feisal, always the gentleman, rearranges the pillows so I can sit more comfortably.

"This." He strokes my thigh, trying to avoid touching the four long red lines, etched into my flesh by his fingernails.

"Don't worry about it. It was..." I want to say it was good. Because it was, that mixture of pleasure and pain was the most intense, most sublime thing I'd ever experienced. But what if Feisal thinks I'm crazy? What if he thinks I'm a freak?

"You liked it, didn't you?" Feisal kisses my shoulder with delightful tenderness. "Oh, you wonderful creature."

I sigh contentedly and snuggle into his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> The show they're watching is called "Jinn". It's on Netflix.


End file.
